


Two sides of the same heart

by Omano



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Cannibalism, Consensual Violence, Dysfunctional Relationships, Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, loving torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omano/pseuds/Omano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Tell me, Michael. Who does your heart beat for?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Michael gasped, fought for his scattered conscience. The smile above him was patient where the sharp teeth basking in the colour of dawn glittered with danger.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You,” he claimed choking up blood soaked sparks of his old fire. “You. Only you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>In the Cage, left to destroy each other again and again, in the end Michael and Lucifer aren't that much different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting from tumblr.
> 
> Please let me know if I should add any more tags, because this is the first, and most likely last thing I've written like this, and I have absolutely no idea how to handle the tags.

 

 

“Michael.”

A lightning bolt scorched his throat.

“Michael.”

He blinked his eyes open. The light hurt.

“There you are.” Sleepy eyes looked down at him from above a gentle smile. “You know that I don’t like it when you leave me for so long.”

“Lucifer,” he whispered.

Lucifer hummed, pleased, and leant over him to bring their lips together in a feather-light kiss. He took Michael’s lower lip between his teeth and pulled. He pulled until the red spark of pain flared and even further. He pulled until soft tissues tore and Michael gasped.

Even now all he could whisper was “Lucifer,” again and again, and again until his lips were no more, his teeth painted red and his tongue twirled no longer under the heavy taste of salt and iron.

Above him the star glimmered.

Conducted by the constant choking prayer of his name, a sparkling hand traced Michael’s breastbone.

Lightning pierced the skin of his stomach, tore through muscle and empty organs. Soon there was an entire forest of electric bolts prising him open.

Michael screwed his eyes shut; Hell rang with his gurgling scream of colliding realities.

He only recognized the sharp pain to have dulled into a hot thrum through his entire body when the tender wet caress of the arctic wind touched his cheek.

“You promised to never leave me,” his star purred, gaze eternally deep and terrifying and soft.

“I wouldn’t,” he wasn’t sure if any voice could still make its way out of his throat. If he even had voice chords to start with.

Lucifer’s arms were covered in blood and gore up to his elbows. There were messy specks on his face.

Beneath him Michael lay gaping open from collar to pelvis. Flesh barely clinging to the bones, there was a portico of broken ribs, while his lungs lay burst and flat on either side of his spine. Only his heart beat a flailing rhythm inside the scooped empty dome of his chest.

Lucifer looked along his handiwork with satisfaction – and that made Michael, too, feel pleased with himself.

The Morning Star lifted his heart to his mouth – it was mesmerizing to watch it throb and splutter splashes of blood all over the two of them. He took a small bite.

“Sweet,” he hummed, his red tongue flickering out for another taste. “Tell me, Michael. Who does your heart beat for?”

Michael gasped, fought for his scattered conscience. The smile above him was patient where the sharp teeth basking in the colour of dawn glittered with danger.

“You,” he claimed choking up blood soaked sparks of his old fire. “You. Only you.”

The new grin was violent, possessive, obsessed, lost beyond reason and words in horror, yet Michael couldn’t think of anything more beautiful as Lucifer wrapped his blood-soaked fingers around his neck.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The pendulum swung forever and ever from tender torture to ruthless destruction, exquisite beauty and shattered bliss, broken and whole, fractured and healed without end. Once Lucifer choked Michael, then he was the one choking on his own tongue pulled out through the open wound on his throat.

It went all round and round in slightly distorted circles.

And in the midst of all that they made violent love in the blood filled pool of the disrupted cosmos, with teeth bared and eyes clawed out.

There would be times when Michael could pin Lucifer on the floor of tattered reality, only to later impale himself on Lucifer’s lap and dissolve in bliss as he bled out completely. Then he would scream, beautiful and divine, how Lucifer had sung once, when in the storm of desire Lucifer grasped for his wings until he could grab a secondary around the base and tear it from Michael’s spine.

The feathers blazed like embers that raced time to greedily splutter out enough light before they were turned to silver ashes. Caked with blood, turned to white mud, the ashes covered Lucifer’s arm.

A morbid Milky Way in Hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's for the other side.

 

“Lucifer.”

The wind whispered. The bars rattled. Fire cracked.

“Lucifer.”

The depth of a volcano rumbled.

In a flash pain erupted from Lucifer’s back - from the root of his wings pierced on cracked emptiness. Like lava it flowed down his back and inside of him - the magma hardening on the surface of his lungs, heat and cold colliding, while his feathers soaked up the fire, melting into his wicked grace.

Lucifer hung, hooked on a pair of ribs of some flood-destroyed hellish monster, while Michael blazed in front of him. His breath like the desert wind, his chest still gaping open; comets dripped from the peaks of his broken bones into the black hole of his very core. And amid that star-dotted nothingness the mauled heart swung on one thick artery, alone, pulsating, belching golden smoke and spluttering fiery blood to rain down on flesh and bone.

His heart - _oh_ , his heart was beautiful!

Michael followed Lucifer’s hazy gaze. A wide grin split his face.

“It’s yours,” he said. His voice boomed through the vast exiguity of the Cage, like all the fires lit at the same time.

One scorching hand felt for Lucifer’s ribs.

“There, now. It’s only appropriate if you have it.”

Except for a little surprised sigh no sound left Lucifer’s mouth. With gentle precision Michael peeled layers of throbbing grace away, and Lucifer barely noticed. At first because his mind was entrapped in a channel of golden sparks, an entire mirror hallway of swarming embers, dying gasps of cities perished - all of them, Rome, London, Moscow, all the great ones that were devoured in fire. Then Lucifer himself was falling with them, down the tunnel, but he followed not a white rabbit, but comets, stars and birthing planets he had once cut from Michael’s wing.

Michael’s void-glitter coloured hands caressed the raw ribs - Lucifer’s own inner cage far more secure than this one hellspace around them. What were 666 seals, what were four rings compared to the lock he had constructed in the light of dying stars?

He was, as so often he didn’t like to admit, proven wrong.

Under his brother’s familiar, tender fingertip the clever sigils unravelled, and by the time Michael leaned close, so close that their bruised lips brushed, he only had to breathe one word, one strikingly beautiful name, and Lucifer’s ribs willingly opened, their ends singed, but intact, like old citadel gates.

Lucifer fell forward, his forehead against Michael’s shoulder.

Michael pushed him back onto his hooks. It barely hurt this time.

A handprint burnt to the side of Lucifer’s face. A thumb caressed the corner of his eye. It was soon covered in blisters.

“Where is my greedy little brother?” Michael crooned. “I expected you jumping around for your present. Like you did, when I gave you that necklace. Do you remember that?”

Like on ice a white grin cracked across Lucifer’s face.

“Of course.” He rasped. “It felt so good in my hands. I crushed it, bead by bead, imagined they were your pretty eyes.”

He lifted a numb hand, about to reach for Michael’s face, but he found his wrist snared and pinned against the bars. Between the bones a pin pierced his flesh.

“Impatient still,” Michael clicked his tongue.

Then a smile crossed his face, self-satisfied, tender in its victorious cruelty, and he reached inside his own broken chapel of flesh and bone, and as if it was a ripe fruit, he plucked the mauled heart from the artery.

A fluttering moan settled on Lucifer’s ravenous lips that Michael kissed away.

He kissed his star with ferocious intensity, able to bring the moon from its orbit and grind it to fine dust. Not even his tongue bitten could stop him as he sucked the choking gasps and muffled wail as he placed the two hearts next to each other, blazing, white and gold red. They gave the perfect shape of how humans depicted a heart. They were right on this one.

What other form could it ever take and be more whole than this?

Michael marvelled at the beaming line as the two parts fought against each other, yet there was nothing they desired more than their destructive union.

Beautiful.

Before Lucifer had the chance to admire the maddening sensation, Michael tucked himself in there too, next to the beating, melting, moulding, burning, burning hearts, and covered himself with a blanket of bones.

The sun trapped in a bottle.

He left Lucifer alone to scream, and scream, and scream as fire engulfed him from within. Hallowed fire that was never meant to be inside him. Outside, _only_ outside, licking the iniquity off his rotten grace for all eternity, but it was never meant to nibble directly at his icy heart that now erupted as fine crystal snow. However, before it could evaporate, and be done with the suffering, the mist was still ensnared within a diamond dome formed by heat and cold that could never truly beat each other without both of their destructive intent.

Through his own voice, through the magma still pouring down his back where once his wings stretched, he missed to hear the thunder of oncoming destruction, power so ancient, only a few left to remember.

The bars shook, and like spider webs cracks started to form as Lucifer howled on like some wounded, terrible beast, while outside Darkness fell over the world.

 


End file.
